


pumpkin spice and honey candies

by fumerie (grisclair)



Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-17
Updated: 2011-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:19:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grisclair/pseuds/fumerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[The Sartorialist!AU] in which Sungmin is a world-renowned street fashion photographer, and Zhou Mi wears yellow ankle boots in an April afternoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pumpkin spice and honey candies

_the boy's got my heart in a silver cage_

  


-

  


Sungmin was never quite sure how it happened, but in a strange plot twist of his life, somewhere along the way he became a street fashion photographer. He had started out normal, really, just working for Sales & Marketing in a showroom for several world-renowned labels, then somewhere between Comme des Garçons and Burberry, he had a blog.

"You never know what it is, what that thing is that draws you to that person. You just let it happen. You just let yourself go out there and let yourself fall a little in love every day, be seduced every day, looking at all the patterns, colours, the little details." Sungmin smiled at the camera. "Sometimes it rains, the world shimmers, and the light catches a perfect angle."

Somewhere along the way, he had thousands of photos of beautiful strangers on the street, a world-famous fashion blog, an office in Soho, London, reoccurring guest corners for Style, GQ, and Vogue, a photobook, a small documentary, and his head scattered somewhere between Tokyo and London, Paris and New York.

  


-

  
He met Zhou Mi for the first time in Sydney one autumn day in April, in that moment just before the rain. Except his mind still read April as spring, and the way this tall Asian young man wore his lemon yellow ankle boots with dark jeans and a pinstriped suit jacket sparked something in his mind that reminded him of spring and wild flowers.

"Excuse me?" Sungmin stepped into his line of vision, and the young man's head perked up from looking at his iphone. Sungmin noticed it was clad in the same obnoxious lemon yellow colour. "Sorry, do you mind if I take your photograph? Just a simple shot of you leaning against the railing there, just like that." He turned on his brightest smile, tilting his head to the side and holding his camera up.

"Um, what's it for?" The man blinked at him, looking curious rather than defensive. There was a smile on his lips as well. He had a nice smile, the way his eyes seemed to soften with it.

"Oh, I run this fashion blog called The Sartorial..."

"Oh!" The man's eyes lit up with recognition. "The Sartorial! I love your blog!" He stood up straighter, and Sungmin had seen how those legs went on forever, but the man practically towered over him. He beamed at him, and Sungmin laughed. He took his shots, fast and instinctive. Full body, boots, the way the stranger's wine red hair was swept over his eyes by the wind, the way the last rays of sunlight glinted off his black-rimmed glasses. Sungmin took a deep breath. The wind rustled his own hair. He could smell water in the air.

"Thank you, that's perfect!"

"No, thank you!" The young man had a really nice smile, and Sungmin found it impossible not to smile back. "I've always been a fan of your blog! Sorry I didn't recognise you, it's just... this is the first time I see the man behind the camera."

Sungmin ducked his head, "That's why I'm the man behind the camera. I'm glad--" He didn't even finish his sentence when the first raindrops hit the pavement and his own shoulders. "Ah!" Sungmin quickly turned to put his camera back into his bag when all of sudden the sky became a little darker... yet there was nothing falling on his head. Sungmin blinked and looked up. There was a yellow umbrella with skull prints over his head. Very McQueen with a splash of sunshine, he noted. And the other man was smiling down at him. Sungmin flushed, a little startled by the sudden proximity. "Thank you-"

"How about we stop by this little coffee shop nearby to hide from the rain?"

Sungmin stared. "I'm sorry?"

"Do you have any other plan? I can't imagine it would be very productive to go photo-hunting in the rain. I know a nice coffee shop nearby where you can sit down for a hot latte and a nice slice of cake. Would you mind if I just invite myself along?" The young man tilted his head, his smile charming and impossible to refuse. Sungmin let him hold the umbrella, if only because he would just poke the other man in the eye if he was holding it.

"So it's Lee Sungmin, right?" His companion startled him out of his reverie. Sungmin blinked.

"How did you know?"

"You have a little biography thing on your blog. I told you, I'm a fan. Oh, I'm Zhou Mi." Zhou Mi offered him his free hand, and Sungmin reached out.

"Hi, Zhou Mi."

 

The nearby coffee shop was a lovely place nestled next to a bookstore. He ordered a small pumpkin spice latte with an apple cinnamon muffin. Zhou Mi got himself a caramel latte and a slice of carrot cake. They settled in two plush red armchairs in a quiet corner of the room. The soft delicious smell of hot coffee and milk washed over him, and for a moment he felt like he could forget the entire outside world and just exist in that single moment.

"Are you Chinese?" Sungmin asked as he nibbled on his muffin.

"Yes," Zhou Mi beamed at him. "I've been living here for a few years though." Zhou Mi smiled, stabbing his cake in enthusiasm.

"Oh," Sungmin exclaimed in an appropriate expression of surprise.

"Australia has koalas," the other man continued as though it was an explanation for his previous statement. 

Sungmin's latte mug paused on its way to his lips as he pondered this. 

"...Right."

In the next few hours, waiting for the rain to let up, Zhou Mi told him stories about little vintage boutiques, koala parks, hilarious horror movies, and delicious steamed dumplings. Sungmin laughed over the rim of his mug. 

"You know, I never thought about it but now that I've met you, you really do have a British accent. I mean, I know you've been living and working in the UK forever, but somehow it never crossed my mind." Zhou Mi tilted his head, and Sungmin blinked. "It's kind of hot."

Sungmin took a long sip of his latte.

He was still not quite sure how it'd happened, but by the end of the day he'd had Zhou Mi's skype username in his contact list. (Actually, he knew how it'd happened: Zhou Mi had taken his phone from him, installed skype for him, and added his own username. "International text is expensive, too!" Zhou Mi had said.) Sungmin wasn't quite sure what to make of this odd occurrence in his life.

  


-

  
They did end up talking.

He sent Zhou Mi a message somewhere between Sydney and London, _"what do you call the yellow of your boots?"_

  


-

  
It was the first day of May, and Zhou Mi messaged him on skype, _"where r u i've got graduation u wanna come? :D"_

Sungmin raised an eyebrow as he stuffed a blueberry muffin into his mouth. He got through half of the muffin before he could find enough coordination to type back a reply, _"yours? how old are you have you been lying."_

The office was bustling in the morning, new clients were coming in already asking about the resort collection. Sungmin busied himself with photo spreads and newspaper clippings, half a mind on Zhou Mi and his yellow ankle boots in spring. He checked his phone again sometime in the afternoon during lunch, and realized Zhou Mi had sent him one actual message and several smileys.

_"mine. i'm 27 got second degree in media communication bc i'm amazing zhou mi u know?"_

Sungmin laughed and nearly spat out his bubble tea, which he fortunately didn't because the trip between his office and the bubble tea shop was far and it was going to rain soon. He ended up getting caught in the rain anyway on his way home. 

_"i'm sick, my umbrella broke :("_ he typed into his skype window, wrapping his huge fluffy towel around his head.

 _"what's your favourite colour?"_ Zhou Mi replied.

 

Five days later there was a cerise pink umbrella on his work desk, delivered through DHL. "Very chic," the Hello Kitty note that went with it said.

 _"I said black!"_ Sungmin furiously typed on his phone.

 _"pink is the new black"_ was Zhou Mi's succinct response before he threw a link at him. _"my blog! i update every day so follow me!"_

Sungmin stared at the website he'd just opened. 

_"it's in Chinese i don't read Chinese."_

The background was a cartoon drawing of someone that looked suspiciously like Zhou Mi with pink hair, while the profile picture was obviously a self-taken photo of the man himself with... eyeliner and a leather jacket. Sungmin bit down on his lip. His eyes were dark and sultry, a quirk of a smirk gracing slightly reddened lips.

 _"it's okay you only need to look at my fabulous self,"_ Zhou Mi replied with several :D.

Sungmin scrolled down the page, rolling at his eyes at what obviously was a cloud of tags, and the biggest ones he could read were _gentlemanmimi_ and _vintage_. Down the page was a lot of Zhou Mi. Zhou Mi in a restaurant. Zhou Mi in a coffee shop. Zhou Mi in front of a department store. Zhou Mi in a bathroom. Zhou Mi with leopard-print shoes. Zhou Mi with a studded clutch. Sungmin spent the evening figuring out how to register for an account on that weibo website, then diligently scrolling through all entries, all with the help of google translate. To his mild surprise, Zhou Mi was actually very popular, if his follower count was anything to go by.

Sungmin's breath caught when he got to a photo of Zhou Mi standing on a street in Sydney an April afternoon, bathed in the last rays of sunshine before the rain, the light glinting off the frame of his glasses, his cheekbones sharp against the shadow. The same photo he had taken and posted on his website. Zhou Mi had written _"thank you, Sungmin-sshi!"_ in Korean in the caption for the photo.

  


-

  
Sungmin received a package of matcha cookies in the middle of May, the white box tied neatly with a tasteful lime green ribbon. He made a side trip down to Covent Garden in the late afternoon, picking up a small box of gourmet honey candies. The little card that came with the box had a big-headed yellow bee, and he carefully wrote _觅糖 (mitang)_ in a corner. Two weeks later, a box full of sugar and spice roasted pumpkin seeds arrived on his desk. Sungmin smiled to himself, nibbling on the seeds as he sipped on a glass of Merlot and looked through the photos taken during the day. Summer was in full bloom, the parks and side streets vibrant with colours.

A skype window popped up. A link sent from gentlemanmimi. A picture of an obnoxiously bedazzled Union Jack watch. Sungmin choked on his wine.

 _"tell me it's not yours,"_ he furiously typed.

 _"got it this afternoon :D"_ Zhou Mi replied, _"i made it myself! will show you next time."_

Sungmin rubbed at his temple. He saved the picture into a little folder named "mitang" anyway.

  


-

  
He took up Chinese sometime around the beginning of June and the resort collections. Online courses, audio files. He listened to his ipod inbetween landings and take-offs, train rides and taxi runs, Paris and Saint-Tropez, London and New York. His notebook was full of scribbled notes and little illustrations on cub collars and floral details, sandwiched between pages and pages of Chinese characters. It was about time, Sungmin shrugged, he might as well take up a new hobby, be it a language or anything else. By the end of June, or more specifically, by the end of the Miu Miu show in Paris, he had managed to perfect his written _"我喜欢你" (wo xi huan ni)_ without slapping himself in the face. "Wo xi huan ni," Sungmin mumbled to himself, carefully adding the last stroke. The woman with a giant fuschia cape next to him gave him a strange look.

He sent Zhou Mi candid photos of the models having coffee backstage with their hair pinned back, or just walking on the street outside a show with a book or three under their arms, dark eyes bruised in shades of plum and neon blue. _"have you ever thought about becoming a model?"_

Zhou Mi's reply was immediate. _"yes it would be interesting!_

_"not a good idea."_

  


-

  


And then it was already the end of September, but it was easy to pretend it was still the last days of summer. Somehow this year it became a time of sunshine and laughter and endless trips to post offices. His office, his living room, and his bedroom were cluttered with little koalas, pandas, strange fruit-shaped lotion bottles, cutesy postcards, and whatever exotic sweet treats Zhou Mi had discovered the previous week. His skype history was filled up with links to vintage loafers, feather brooches, fish spa, and Zhou Mi's latest collection of sunglasses. He made more effort to go down to the vintage fabric shops and Sunday markets, picking up small jars of mis-matched buttons to send across the ocean. It was the last days of summer, and Sungmin thought he might have fallen a little in love with summer.

  


-

  


The last few months of the year passed by in a flurry of paperwork and runway cities and a truckton of coffee and tea. It was not even that he needed those to stay awake, it was just the middle of winter, and the longer he stayed up, the more he felt the urge to be cocooned in comforting warmth and nostalgia.

One Thursday evening, just when he was about to pass out on a folder of clippings from Chloe's spring-summer collection, a phone call came from someone whom he had not exactly been expecting. Sungmin barely had time to think about the strange number on the display as he pressed the answer button. 

"Hey, where are you?" It had been months since he'd last heard that voice, but the lilt on those words was not easy to be mistaken. "I'm in London, and it's freezing cold. Why did I even leave sunshiny Australia for this?"

"Oh." Sungmin dropped his pen, the clanking sound oddly loud and clear in the dark room. "Right."

 

When they finally met up, the sky was already a dark and dreary shade of blue. Zhou Mi was trying to burrow his nose into a giant silvery grey cashmere scarf wrapped around his head. He looked as good in real life as Sungmin remembered. Dark strands of hair peeked under the scarf, a darker shade now, almost brown, also shorter, accentuating the sharp angles of his face. Those eyes were still the same, bright and mesmerising. 

"You're wrapped like a spring roll, so cute." Zhou Mi hugged him the moment he was close enough. Sungmin rolled his eyes at the other man's flimsy peacoat.

"There are already people like you to take up the fashionable role in the winter. Why are you here? How did you even know I would be in London?"

"I just wanted to see you. And your blog said so." Zhou Mi smiled, fussing with his scarf.

The last days of the year were bitingly cold and harsh, despite the steady noisy crowded streams of lights and people hurrying past shops and stores in bright obnoxious Christmas colours. They stood side by side on the pavement, shuffling and looking around and somehow unsure of themselves and the world that was moving all around them.

“How about dinner then?” Sungmin blurted out the question without much thought. Zhou Mi was silent for a few moments, and just as Sungmin was about to tell him to forget about it, the other man nudged him lightly on his arm.

“Of course. Where do you want to go?”

“I know this really nice Korean place in Notting Hill. They have the best Korean BBQ.”

“Korean food sounds nice.” Zhou Mi turned to smile at him.

The Korean restaurant was located in a small alley in the old streets of Notting Hill, surrounded by antique shops of mirrors and lamps and huge trunks that looked like they belonged to a glorious time of kings and queens, hidden just a few steps away from the modern noisy crowd of the high street. Oddly enough, no matter how many times he had gone there to eat, he had never managed to catch the name of the restaurant. All he remembered was the small wooden and glass door leading to a tiny cosy room of wooden tables and benches, with the small Korean woman smiling at the counter. 

It was warm and familiar and a small forgotten corner of the city where he could curl into himself and feel at home. Years had passed since the day he had gone here to have lunch just as a teenage boy, and yet the place still remained the same, just like a time capsule kept in place, unaffected by the city’s dizzying changes. The place felt oddly personal, and he didn’t stop to think what it meant that he was bringing Zhou Mi here. They chose a small table in the corner of the room. Zhou Mi played with the poppies on the table, while he ordered the ddubokki and bulgolgi, along with the bibimbap and soondubu soup.

The food was as good as he remembered. They both had special fruit patbingsoo with fresh slices of mango and kiwi as dessert, laughing over Sungmin's adventures in Spain and Zhou Mi's latest trip to the koala park. By the time the meal was finished with hot black tea for him and coffee for Zhou Mi, Sungmin sort of wanted to stay in that small cosy restaurant forever. When they finally paid the bill and stepped out of the warm restaurant into the harsh cold winds of mid-winter days, it was back to reality.

"I... actually, I have a flight back tomorrow morning." Zhou Mi shuffled his feet, once again wrapping the scarp around his face. "Um, here." He pulled a paper box out of his giant bag and dropped it into Sungmin's hands.

Sungmin clutched the box in his gloved hands, the smell of salted caramel sweet in the air.

"Goodnight," Zhou Mi leaned down, and Sungmin closed his eyes as something warm brushed his hair.

  


-

  
Days passed. It left Sungmin biting the tips of his fingers, pointedly ignoring the existence of his phone and his computer. He was not even sure what was stopping him, yet he could not bring himself to look. Sungmin spent the whole day cleaning up his flat as a familiar means of procrastination. He spent a few days in quiet peaceful solitude, nibbling on salted caramel fudge, submerging himself in warm blankets, hot Orange Pekoe milk tea, and his endless pile of to-read books for the year, trying to blank his mind out as much as possible. Sungmin turned off his phone after leaving a message for all the people who might contact him during the holiday, saying that he would be unavailable for a few days, and not to even try knocking on his door.

It did not take long before the restlessness set in. He turned on his phone on the afternoon of the twenty-second, and found six missed calls and a slew of text messages from his friends that basically told him to have fun and call them when he got out of his stupid hermit phase. He knew it was ridiculous, but he still felt a tiny sliver of disappointment when there was nothing from Zhou Mi.

He logged on to his weibo account.

  


-

  
Taipei was not exactly how he'd imagined it would be. Humid and grey, the city a little out of sync with concrete structures and the world's second tallest skyscraper. Or maybe that was just the way his heart was going. He called Zhou Mi on his way from the airport to the hotel.

"Why are you here?" Zhou Mi repeated his question with wide eyes when they met just outside of the giant skyscraper.

"Your blog said you were on holiday in Taiwan. It's too cold in London." Sungmin shuffled his feet, eyes not quite meeting Zhou Mi's but on the curve of his lips, which were slowly forming a smile.

"I didn't know you read Chinese."

"I don't." Sungmin turned away.

"So, dinner!" A hand grasped his wrist. "What do you want, good food or comfort food or just food to fill the stomach and hold you back from keeling over?"

"I don't know," Sungmin blinked, looking down at his wrist, "what's the difference?"

  


-

  
Dinner was a feast of the best of Taiwanese food in the restaurant on top of the giant skyscraper. Sungmin fiddled with his wine glass. A Mouton Rothschild 1985, full-bodied and dark with ripe berry.

"The thing about relationships is," Sungmin rested his chin on the back of his hand, "I don't believe in relationships where you don't have to work for it. Easy comes easy goes, you know? If the relationship is too saccharine, it will never work out."

"So what you are saying is a nice, smooth sailing relationship is boring." His companion picked up the wine bottle, calmly pouring for both of their glasses with a slow turn of the wrist. Sungmin stared in appreciation. 

"Well, yes. Exactly." Sungmin picked up his glass and raised it slightly before touching the edge of the glass with his lips. He took a long sip then set the glass down. "I mean, who wants nice, pleasant, boring relationships?"

There was an indulgent amused smile tugging at the corner of Zhou Mi's lips, and if Sungmin were any less inebriated he would have noticed, but the thing was they were already well on their second bottle for the night.

"So what do you think about me, Sungmin-sshi?"

Zhou Mi was looking straight into Sungmin's eyes, his own eyes crinkled with the smile. Sungmin blinked slowly, unconsciously sliding the wine glass closer to himself.

"I. Like you?"

"Not too nice or boring for you?" Zhou Mi was just teasing him now, his voice sotto and his eyes mischievous, long fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass. Sungmin's hand froze around his own glass.

"Um."

Zhou Mi actually laughed, the sound soft and pleasant but it was still enough to heat up Sungmin's cheeks. He didn't say anything as Zhou Mi scooted closer and plucked the wine glass from his fingers. 

"Let's go."

 

The back of Sungmin's neck was prickling with awareness on their way back to his hotel room, but nothing prepared him for the way Zhou Mi pressed against him the moment the door closed behind them, backing them all the way up to the bed.

He didn't say anything as long fingers stroked along his jaws and Zhou Mi leaned down close enough for his breath to be warm against Sungmin's lips. Sungmin's eyelids fluttered, his gaze flickering down to zero in on Zhou Mi's lips, so close to his own. All soft-looking and moist from the wine they had been drinking. His eyes fluttered close as Zhou Mi's lips gently bumped against his, the give and firmness of those lips strangely sensual against his own. Zhou Mi nibbled on his lower lip, and there was a small moan that followed. He wasn't quite sure who was making the noise.

One of Zhou Mi's hands was cradling the back of Sungmin's head, while the other found its way to his side. Sungmin arched his body to press closer to Zhou Mi, their kisses turning more breathless with every quick slip of the tongue. After what seemed like hours, Sungmin broke away with a gasp, face flushed as Zhou Mi's mouth found its way to his jaw.

"You sent me cookies and pink umbrellas and stuffed koalas," Sungmin said, almost in accusation. Then again, it was hard when half his face was buried against the nape of Zhou Mi's neck. "That's too... cute. My teeth are soon going to rot."

Zhou Mi chuckled against his skin. "You sent me honey candies and vintage coat buttons and postcards written in broken Chinese. You're the cutest of all."

Sungmin hit Zhou Mi's head with a pillow.

  


-

  
"Okay, so the truth is, that time I was in London, I had a job interview." Zhou Mi smiled, poking at his cheek. Sungmin didn't even swat his hand away as realisation set in.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"There's no koala in London." Sungmin blurted out, feeling more than a little confused.

Zhou Mi laughed against his hair. "Why did you think I sent you my entire stuffed koala collection?"

  


-


End file.
